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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24647053">Someone to Ease the Pain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy_Beatles/pseuds/Peachy_Beatles'>Peachy_Beatles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Existential Crisis, Hurt/Comfort, John is 19, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Paul is 21, Slow Burn, lots of tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:47:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24647053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy_Beatles/pseuds/Peachy_Beatles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John Lennon is your typical teddy boy with a rebellious attitude, fueled by the unruly influence of rock and roll. At least, that is what Paul is told when he starts work as a counsellor for the Liverpool College of Art. <br/>His job, to understand and instil obedience within students, is harder than he anticipated. Especially when a certain troublemaker keeps drawing Paul in with his cheeky wit and passion for music.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Lennon/Paul McCartney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is set in January 1960, and I know the idea of a school counsellor/therapist is a little modern for that period, but alas I had this idea in my head and didn’t want to write a modern au :’) </p>
<p>Here’s a quote which set the mood for this fic:<br/>“I often used to boss him round, and he must have appreciated the hard side in me or it wouldn’t have worked; conversely, I very much appreciate the soft side in him.”</p>
<p>- Paul McCartney, taken from Barry Miles’ ‘Many Years From Now.’</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Monday morning, in school. Paul, who was overjoyed to graduate a few years ago, didn’t think he’d ever be back preparing for the day so early. Except this time he is being paid as a teacher, or a school counsellor, specifically.</p>
<p>He is briefed in the morning about how the school works by the headmaster and tries to keep his mind drifting off from boredom; assembly from 8:30 am till 9:00 am, lessons, then break and so on. He is told about naughty students (“the usual culprits”) and is passed a file concerning the first boy he will be counselling. Paul smiles as he accepts it, feigning politeness, and slips it into his briefcase.</p>
<p>It is 1:00pm when Paul finally leaves the staff room, where he had introduced himself to the fellow staff working there, and heads to his office, revelling in the fact that he has his own personal space to work. He sits down on the leather chair behind his desk and takes out the file from his briefcase. </p>
<p><em> John Lennon </em> is the name printed on the cover.</p>
<p>Apparently, this boy was caught drinking alcohol on the school premise, and to top it off he is often disruptive and rude in class. This is evident by his record of detentions. ‘Disruption’, ‘misbehaviour’ and even ‘sabotage’ are all listed as reasons for his sanctions; Paul can’t help but giggle at this.</p>
<p>The boy should be here by now; it is 1:05 pm. </p>
<p>Paul drums his fingers on his wooden desk impatiently, he has the urge to light a cigarette while he waits but thinks better of it. He needs to set a good example. </p>
<p>The silence is thick around him; he stops drumming his fingers and sighs. It is now 1:09. John is almost five minutes late and Paul is worried he will be a no show. Which, honestly, would be unsurprising, but Paul isn’t too happy about having his time wasted. He starts to whistle a tune in the meantime, but is disturbed by an abrupt knock on his door before it is unceremoniously burst open. </p>
<p>Standing in the doorway, wearing a scowl and hair piled high in a teddy boy style, is Lennon.</p>
<p>A little shaken from the sudden entrance, Paul calms his face and smiles, “hello there. Have a seat” he says and gestures to the chair in front of his desk. He watches as John slams the door shut, walks over and slumps into the chair without saying a word. </p>
<p>The teddy boy in front of him sits hunched, his eyes narrowed and menacing. Paul sighs, he’s already had enough of delinquents.</p>
<p>“Alright John” he says, smiling to appear harmless, “nice to meet you. I’m Mr McCartney, and I can assure you that everything you say here is <em> completely </em> confidential and will not leave this room.” </p>
<p>Paul’s words of assurance are met with a roll of John’s eyes, “piss off, I know that's not true.”</p>
<p>At the boy’s bad attitude, Paul frowns and tries to keep professional, “no. Everything you say is strictly private and I don’t have the right to tell anyone unless I believe you want to compromise the safety of yourself or others.” </p>
<p>“Well that’s good, because I don’t. Now, if you don’t mind me, Mr McCartney, I’m going to enjoy the rest of my lunch.” John spits, moving to get up from his chair. </p>
<p>“Wait- John, don’t make this difficult.” </p>
<p>Looking at John’s smirk Paul realises that he enjoys causing disruption; he changes tactics, “If you don’t comply with school rules I’ll have to inform your parents.”</p>
<p>“Well, good luck with that” John laughs sarcastically, but gives no further explanation. </p>
<p>Paul gives him a puzzled look and gazes down at the sheet the headmaster gave him earlier, which includes information on John recorded by the school. He reads about the recent death of his mother and the blood drains from his face. He coughs in embarrassment and attempts to regain his composure.</p>
<p>“I’ll- um, I’ll have to tell the headmaster who’ll call home. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.” </p>
<p>John glares at him in response, standing defiant.</p>
<p>“<em>Listen </em>, I’ll let you go early, because I understand how you’re feeling right now. But you need to just answer some of my questions” Paul says, exasperated.</p>
<p>John scoffs at him, so Paul decides to keep talking, “What happened today in class?”</p>
<p>“Oh fer fucks sake” John whines and falls back into the plastic chair. </p>
<p>Paul tuts at the swear word, but decides to let it slide. </p>
<p>“Pretentious shite. I was bloody bored n’ so I decided to take the mickey out of the teacher. The joke went too far and now I’m ‘ere. I don’t have any mental problems or whatever, alright.” John continues, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away.  </p>
<p>“Alright. No one thinks you have any ‘mental problems’ John, I understand it was just some fun. What I want to know is <em> why </em> you felt the need to behave in that way, surely you know the school rules.” </p>
<p>“Well Mr McCartney, since you’re so bloody good at your job, surely you already know.” John mocks, his eyes snapping back to Paul’s.</p>
<p>Paul frowns again, he’s starting to feel impatient at the boy’s cocky attitude and is already hating his job. </p>
<p>“I’m of legal drinking age anyway” John mutters, in an attempt to justify drinking beer in between classes. </p>
<p>“Yes, you turned 19 in October” Paul nods, and decides to quickly change the subject, “so, what else do you find fun? I’ve heard that you’re a bright young man when you decide to put in the effort.” </p>
<p>John bites his lip, “er- Guess I like drawing. Music too.”</p>
<p>“Oh- I also like music, learned the guitar and everything.”</p>
<p>John’s eyes widen, “yeah? I can play the guitar as well. Tried to form me own band but not many other people are into rock and roll.”</p>
<p>Paul nods, excited that he’s found common ground with him. </p>
<p>“I like rock and roll too, but don’t tell anyone,” he winks. </p>
<p>John huffs, “I find that hard to believe. Who do you listen to?” </p>
<p>Paul frowns at the jab but replies anyway, “All sorts of people; Elvis, Little Richard, Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran.” </p>
<p>John raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I listen to all of them too.”</p>
<p>Paul smiles and then glances at the clock on the wall, the hands read 1:45. Keeping his promise he looks back at John, “well, It was great talking to you, come back tomorrow at the usual time. You have 15 minutes left of lunch; don’t get into any more trouble or I’ll be scolded along with you.” </p>
<p>John parts his mouth for a second in disbelief before springing up. “Alright. Ta” he says, bolting out the door. </p>
<p>Paul reclines in his chair and sighs, hoping that he won’t have to deal with too many young, rebellious brats in the weeks to come.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning, Paul enters the staff room and groggily makes himself a cup of coffee. As he waits for his steaming cup to cool down, he’s interrupted by a fellow teacher.</p>
<p>“Hey, Paul-“ she says, giving him a tap on the shoulder. </p>
<p>Paul turns around, “yeah?” and awkwardly can’t remember her name.</p>
<p>“Lennon was misbehaving in his English class this morning.”</p>
<p>“Oh. I’ll make sure to talk to him about it then.” Paul replies, she nods and thanks him before going back to her desk.</p>
<p>Paul sighs and stares down at his cup of coffee, he’s afraid John will cost him his job at this rate; can he not go one day without making a scene?</p>
<p>The next couple of hours are mundane: Paul flits around the staff room talking to people and is then sent to be the cover teacher for a ‘Mrs Green’ who couldn’t make it into school due to bad health (honestly!) The class he covers is rowdy and annoying; Paul is constantly issuing them warnings and order marks only to be ignored. He just wants to go home. </p>
<p>When Lunch comes, and Paul retreats into his office, he is hardly in the mood to deal with anyone else. Nevertheless, he gives John a bright smile as the boy saunters into his office, “Afternoon John, how are you feeling today?”</p>
<p>John returns his enthusiasm with a quizzical look and sits in his chair with a slouch, “fine.”</p>
<p>“Well, I heard you got into trouble this morning during English.”</p>
<p>John scoffs, “teacher’s are too damn strict; can’t take a joke.” </p>
<p>Slightly offended, Paul purses his lips, although he doesn't <em> really </em> consider himself to be a <em> ‘teacher </em>.’ </p>
<p>“Alright. Well.” Paul pauses, “mind you don’t do that again.”</p>
<p>John snickers and Paul tries not to blush, he’s well aware he sounds like an overbearing mother. Clearly he’s not good at this: being strict, taming the unruly. He shakes his head with disapproval and expects John to fight back or at least get annoyed. </p>
<p>Instead, John smiles innocently, “alright. I’ll be on my <em> best </em>behaviour then.”</p>
<p>Paul nods, not entirely convinced by John’s mischievous nature, but feels relieved (and slightly charmed) nonetheless. </p>
<p>“Last time we talked about your interest in rock and roll. Um- and you can play the guitar?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, me mum taught me banjo chords n’ everything.” </p>
<p>Paul gives a slight nod, “that’s good, I had to try and figure out chords by listening to records.” </p>
<p>John cranes his head closer, “on the guitar?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.</p>
<p>John leans back, “Oh.” </p>
<p>“Why do you ask?” </p>
<p>“No reason really. S’just I don’t know guitar chords too well.”</p>
<p>Paul’s eyes widen in shock, “how do you play then?”</p>
<p>“Well- I do the best I can.”</p>
<p>“They aren’t too hard to learn you know” he pauses for a moment, “hey- if you bring in your guitar tomorrow, I’ll try n teach you.” </p>
<p>“Really?” John asks incredulously.</p>
<p>Paul nods and hopes his offer isn’t too bold, “sure.”</p>
<p>John resumes his casual demeanour, but allows himself to smile gently, “thanks. That would be cool.”</p>
<p>“Well, you’ve got almost ten minutes left of break if you want to leave now” Paul stretches his arms out in front of him with a sigh. “Same time tomorrow, alright?”</p>
<p>John nods, “right. See you then” he gets up, spares one last look at Paul, and leaves. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>John duly brings his guitar to school the next day and Paul’s lips curl up in satisfaction when he sees it, “great!” He hums as he looks over at John, who is seated opposite him, a desk separating them and clicks his tongue; he needs to be closer.</p>
<p>Paul stands up and drags his chair from his desk to seat it next to John. “There we go” He murmurs, content with the new arrangement which gives him more space. </p>
<p>At this close proximity he is able to take a good look at John’s face for the first time and notes his handsome features: fine, light brown hair and large almond shaped eyes which are framed by long lashes. </p>
<p>Paul is <em> also </em> able to see John’s guitar better. Which, he reminds himself, is the reason he is sat next to John in the first place. To <em> teach. </em></p>
<p>“So. Um, could you help me tune it?” John asks, a little bashful, which is a side of him Paul has never previously seen. </p>
<p>“Pass me your guitar” he replies. John obeys wordlessly and then watches, fascinated, as Paul tunes it for him. Paul does it slowly, ensuring that John can see what he’s doing clearly. It’s a little challenging, as he is used to tuning guitars for left handed players like himself, but he manages. As Paul tightens the strings, he notes how worn down they are, an indication of how often John must play the instrument.</p>
<p>“Try it out” he says once he is finished. </p>
<p>John takes the guitar from him and tries out a few chords, he wets his bottom lip with his tongue before finally whispering, “It.. it sounds good.”</p>
<p>Paul breathes out a pleased laugh. </p>
<p>“What can you play?”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Paul wonders if he should demonstrate playing the guitar in front of John, if it’s appropriate for a teacher to do so. He doesn’t see how it isn’t. “I can play Twenty Flight Rock” he winks.</p>
<p>“Sure,” John passes the guitar over to him again.</p>
<p>Paul rests it over his lap and struggles for a moment, trying to find a comfortable position, “I’m left handed.” </p>
<p>“Ah.”</p>
<p>Drawing in a large breath, Paul summons up his best impression of Eddie Cochran and starts to play. He gets lost in the song as his voice fills up the small room, his fingers jumping over the strings and twanging out notes. The performance seems intimate in the closed off space of Paul’s office, but Paul doesn’t mind; it’s been too long since he could play the guitar for someone who is genuinely interested. And he’s pretty sure John is impressed. </p>
<p>“Cool” John says as Paul passes the guitar back to him. “That was good” he adds. </p>
<p>“Ta.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you could sing.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah.” Paul replies, and tries to will down the blush warming his face.</p>
<p>“What chords were those?” </p>
<p>“Ah.” Paul leans into John to show him, “right here” and presses his fingers on the neck of the guitar. </p>
<p>John brings his finger to the spot and presses down on the string there. </p>
<p>“Like this” Paul says, guiding John’s hand into a slightly better position. He thinks he hears John’s breath hitch and quickly moves back. </p>
<p>Paul clears his throat, “think you’ve got it.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, thanks” John mumbles, still looking down at the guitar. </p>
<p>It’s almost the end of their session, Paul realises, as he looks at his wrist watch, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, same time.” </p>
<p>“Oh-“ John glances up and blinks at the clock on the wall. “Right. Thanks for this.”</p>
<p>“‘Course,” Paul nods, and watches as John leaves.</p>
<p>Once he is alone, Paul’s office is submerged in a thick silence, which is strange seeming as since just a few minutes before it was filled by the lively sound of rock and roll. He stands up and puts his chair back behind his desk. Paul has learned more about John now and he is pleased. Clearly, John is more than a lost rebel; he is passionate and dedicated to his hobbies. It’s a relief. </p>
<p>Paul realises that his fingers still feel warm from where they touched John's hand, but he doesn’t give it much thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the school day has ended, Paul walks home through the streets of Liverpool. He savours the peaceful moments in which he can simply take in his surroundings and greet the familiar faces he passes along the way. However, he pauses when a music shop catches his eye. It’s small and painted a vibrant red, with a sign declaring: ‘Guitars and sheet music- all inside!’ Curiosity gets the better of him as he peers through the shop window and views the shiny guitar models, amps and other equipment on display. </p><p>He bids the shop owner a good afternoon as he walks in and proceeds to look around. Inside it is cramped, hanging from the walls are various types of guitars: Gibson hollow-bodies, Martin acoustics and Fender telecasters; Paul is impressed. He isn’t planning on buying anything though, until he sees a shelf with an array of guitar strings on them. </p><p>Before he can stop himself, Paul picks a packet up and inspects it. He decides on some that are advertised as sturdy and hard to break. Thinking of John, he walks to the cashier and places them on the desk. </p><p>“That’ll be two shillings, sir.” The shop owner says with a smile.</p><p>Paul nods, they’re a little expensive but he hands over the coins and can’t help but smile to himself as he leaves. <br/><br/></p><p>*<br/><br/></p><p>“Hey, I got you something,” Paul tells John the next day when he comes for their scheduled session. He pulls the packet from his pocket and John, mouth parted slightly in surprise, takes it from him. </p><p>“New guitar strings!” he says and then looks up at Paul, “thank you, Mr McCartney.”</p><p>Paul grins, “no problem. Bring in your guitar again and I’ll redo the tuning, if you’d like.”</p><p>“Sure. Thanks.” A smile plays at the corner of John’s lips and a victorious warmth blossoms in Paul’s chest as he sees it. </p><p>They talk a little more about classes and how John is managing with schoolwork. It isn’t the most interesting topic, but Paul has to remember his role as a councillor and not get carried away with John and rock and roll.  </p><p> </p><p>*<br/><br/></p><p>At first, Paul had found it a struggle to adjust to the life of being a teacher. Waking up early in the morning, having to adapt to the regimented college schedule, coming home and feeling exhausted with no energy to do the things he wanted were all a part of his life that he had to accept. Now, however, he finds himself learning the names of fellow staff members and managing his time so that he can keep up with old friends.</p><p>In particular, his childhood friend George Harrison, who he calls one afternoon seeking their usual repertoire of jokes and banter, but also the comfort of his voice and wit.</p><p>“Are the kids proving to be too much of a challenge?” George teases after listening to Paul complain about the woes of being a counsellor.</p><p>“Well- were <em> we </em>that bad in school? I know you punched a friend of mine once-”</p><p>George cackles down the line, absolutely remorseless.</p><p>“-But I’m sure that was justified.” Paul continues.</p><p>“These boys probably have their reasons too, you’ve just got to figure them out. Anyway, that’s <em> your </em> job.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“What were you expecting, Paul? Becomin’ a stuffy old professor.”</p><p>Paul knows the remark is in good humour, but it is still hard not to take offense, “I don’t know George. I just did it for the sake of having a stable career, really.”</p><p>“What are you going to do next? Settle down, be a good husband to a good wife with kids?”</p><p>Paul pales at the thought, he is too young, and his life isn’t over yet! “No- not marriage” He sighs. A fling with a good looking female teacher would be nice, although maybe a little messy. Unfortunately, the only women working with him are either too old or completely and utterly charmless.</p><p>“Well, y’should come over sometime so we can talk properly. Right now I’m a busy man with my own job, y’see.”</p><p>Paul smiles, “right. Well goodbye then. And I’ll come to see you soon.” </p><p>George hangs up and Paul decides to go to bed early. Talking about the future is hard; when he was a teenager he had planned on becoming a musician with George at his side. Now, however, he has a draining 9 to 5 job- but at least he can help other kids pursue what they believe in. </p><p>As he falls asleep, John flashes through his mind with his unwavering grin and determined pursuit of rock and roll. He may be just another lost teenager, but Paul sees something different in him; a spark of passion which can be ignited into a flame. John just needs a little support, and Paul is up for the challenge.</p><p>*</p><p>With the growing familiarity of life in college, and no longer rushing around the building in fear of not finding classrooms, Paul starts to notice John around more often. Almost as though he were subconsciously looking out for him. He sees him smoking cigarettes outside the college gates with his friends and often spots him between classes talking to a boy (possibly his best mate) next to him. John has become more punctual to their sessions as well, as if he has been looking forward to their meetings. Although that might just be wishful thinking on Paul’s part.</p><p>“Sorry I was late,” John says, smiling slightly as he walks through the door of Paul’s office. It’s 1:15.</p><p>Paul hums, surprised that John actually apologised. “Were you with your friend?”</p><p>“Stu?”</p><p>
  <em> Stu. </em>
</p><p>“Well, it's fine,” Paul smiles, and their session begins. </p><p>*</p><p>The job of sorting out paperwork in the staff room is dull and tedious, Paul uses the time to think about John being late to their meeting. He had been doing a good job of arriving on time lately as well. </p><p>Paul turns to the teacher day next to him, Mrs Green, who is sipping on a cup of tea and doesn’t seem to mind the condensation misting up her spectacles. Paul clears his throat, “just asking, do you teach a, um, a ‘Stu’? Stuart?”</p><p>In reply, Mrs Green chuckles, “oh- yes. Stuart Sutcliffe; Lennon’s sidekick. I don’t teach him personally but I hear he’s a very sweet boy.”</p><p>“He’s marvellous at art, very talented” a random teacher interrupts.</p><p>Paul isn’t sure why something flares up inside of him. <em> Lennon’s sidekick, marvellous, talented. </em></p><p>“Sounds like a distraction to me,” he mutters, and quickly shoves a bunch of papers into a plastic folder.</p><p>“Pardon?” Mrs Green smiles.</p><p>Paul flushes, glad she did not hear him. “Nevermind. Thank you.” he responds. </p><p>He is being totally rational. Afterall, Stuart <em> did </em> make John late to their meeting. He has all the reason in the world to view him as a bad influence.</p><p>*</p><p>The next day, John arrives at their meeting with his guitar in hand, “hey- I’ve been practicing a lot, y’know.”</p><p>“Glad to hear it.” </p><p>Distantly, Paul aches for the freedom that comes with youth. He barely has the time to pick up the guitar outside of his sessions with John. Maybe that is why John has been on his mind so much lately, he’s the only one Paul can share music with. </p><p>“Anything interesting been happening lately?” Paul asks, placing his own guitar across his lap so he can strum at it. </p><p>“Ah- well, same old, same old. I did nick a good record from my friend’s house the other day though.”</p><p>“<em> Oh- </em>” Paul lets out a laugh before he can stop himself. </p><p>“My collection is growing, and the best part is I didn’t have to pay a penny for half of it.”</p><p>Paul shakes his head with a grin.</p><p>“I’ve got tons of Elvis. Little Richard too, when Long Tall Sally came out- you know, it really impressed me, that.” John is grinning widely, an open smile with childish excitement behind it.</p><p>“Yeah- they really are good. First song I heard that was close to rock and roll was ‘sh-boom’ by the Crew Cuts. Think it sparked a passion in me, I got an autograph from them when they came an’ played at the Empire.” </p><p>“Oh, cool. I remember when that came out. I used to listen to Rock and roll records with me mum.”</p><p>“Do you still listen to those records?”</p><p>“Course. Though not with me Aunt; she tells me I won't make a living out of the guitar- n’ maybe she’s right. It won’t stop me from trying though.”</p><p>“Good!” A grin breaks out over Paul’s face. </p><p>John looks at him, “funny that <em> you’re </em> the first person to say that.”</p><p>“Well- you’re passionate and bloody good, more people should encourage you.”</p><p>There’s a silence in the room and Paul goes back to lightly strumming his guitar.</p><p>“My mum used to encourage me”, and it's such a low whisper that Paul almost misses it.</p><p>Paul swallows, “she did? I’m glad.” He looks up and his eyes catch John’s.</p><p>“Yeah, but then a cop had to go an fuckin’ kill her.” Splodges of blotchy pink appear on John’s cheeks, but his eyes still look firmly into Paul’s. It is as though Paul grounds him, and if he looked away he would break.</p><p>A pang of pain pierces through Paul, he sees his own struggle in John too, “my mum died before she ever got to hear me play the guitar” he says, and John jerks in surprise. </p><p>“H-how old were you?”</p><p>“14. To cancer.”</p><p>John sighs, “guess we’ve both got that then, eh.”</p><p>It is Paul’s job, technically, to discuss emotions and pain with students. But his mother's death cut him so deep he can hardly talk about it. Instead he nods, “yeah.” It is easier to brush it off; still, he feels a new connection with John. It feels good to acknowledge something with him, to share pain with him that he’s never been able to discuss with anyone else.</p><p>*</p><p>The guitar sessions between John and Paul become a recurring part of their week; Paul knows John a little more everyday, and less teachers come to complain about John’s behaviour to him. He thinks that spending the time to understand John instead of punishing him has genuinely helped his behaviour. </p><p>John is charming and intelligent, his quick wit matches Paul’s and makes him laugh. It would be a lie if Paul said his meetings with John weren’t the highlight of his week. </p><p>But sometimes, John gets too close. Sometimes, John leans into him and Paul is all too aware of the way his tongue skims over his bottom lip and how his eyes shine when the light catches them. </p><p>Even now, with a desk separating them, Paul can’t take his eyes off of John. He becomes so easily mesmerised by him.</p><p>John clears his throat, “Hey, can you- maybe- come over to my house. Just to teach the guitar. I feel this isn’t long enough.” </p><p>Paul hesitates for a moment. It isn’t a big deal. Teachers privately tutor students all the time, it isn't wrong. </p><p>Panic flitters over John’s face at Paul’s hesitation, “I promise to be good. That is- to stay out of trouble.”</p><p>“Sure.” Paul replies, it’d be nice to practice with someone. “And you better stay out of trouble young lad” he adds with a smile. </p><p>John huffs, and then bites onto his lip sheepishly, “actually- it’d be difficult to play at mine. Since my aunt and all...”</p><p>“Oh.” Paul frowns, John is so talented, it’s a shame he isn’t being supported at home. “Well, maybe you can come to my house.”</p><p>Immediate relief breaks out over John’s face and he looks at Paul with a sparkle in his eyes, “Yeah- that’d be great.”</p><p>“Why don’t you come over at 5pm?” Paul asks, not giving himself time to think about what he had just offered. John nods eagerly and Paul gives him his address. </p><p>“Ta,” John leaves their session with a spring in his step and Paul thinks his feelings of excitement must be contagious because his heart flutters in his chest. Still, he wishes he was immune to John’s mischievous ways and enthusiasm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading, my tumblr is peachybeatles if you want to interact with me there! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’ve already got the next couple of chapters written so look forward to regular updates! Thank you for reading this, kudos/comments are always welcome :) x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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